Healing
by amour.elisa
Summary: The days are slow, the weeks are eternal. Slowly, we heel.   Katniss/Peeta - extended end of Mockinjay


**Chapter 1: Time**

The days are slow, the weeks are eternal.

Time doesn't seem to be passing by. They say that time heals everything. With my luck, it will heal nothing. When time is so slow, how can it really cure anything? When every night I feel like the wound in my heart is tearing apart over and over again. How can you repair a broken heart if the wound in it won't even start mending itself? The nightmares serve as constant reminders of the atrocities I've had to go through in the past two years of my life. It's almost as if Snow had the last laugh after all. He might be dead and I alive, but at the end of the day I'm the one that will always be suffering with each breath I take. I know now that time won't heal the howling pain inside of me.

As I watch the blonde boy next to me sleep I start to doubt whether this was a good idea after all. It was I who had suggested it because I knew he would never refuse me. The one thing I knew was that when his arms are around me, the nightmares are gone. I feel selfish, to have used his feelings to my own advantage, but I know he suffers just as much as me. I could see it in his face that part of him was relieved when I asked him to stay because maybe for once he wouldn't have to endure the pain of those atrocious nightmares too.

It seems to be working for him. With me, well, staying awake is an effective method of keeping away the nightmares.

I force myself to stay awake. It's not out of embarrassment; Peeta has already seen me at my worst. I don't want to sleep because I don't want him to have to hear my screams. What if my plan doesn't work and my nightmares occur? I've already hurt him enough already, I don't have to torture him by making him listen to my screams of terror.

Buttercup is curled up at the bottom of the bed, his yellow eyes are looking at me, probably wondering why I'm still awake and not screaming the night away. Had it been three years ago I would have kicked the muddy-coloured cat for being so close to me and on my bed. Tolerance with each other is our rule now. We stand each other, give comfort if needed but mostly look out for one another whenever we feel the need to. Prim would have liked our new relationship.

_Prim_.

There isn't one night where I don't think about her. Her smile, her giggle, her bright happy eyes. I wish I could hold her just one more time in my arms. My little sister: the reason why I went hunting and kept all of us alive those torturous years after my father's death. The little girl that had to grow so much in the past two years and behave more maturely than any other thirteen year old. I miss her. I miss her so much.

I slowly wiggle myself out of Peeta's arms and sit up on the bed. My throat feels dry and I need some water. Thinking of Prim always makes me somewhat faint or even _ill_ at times.

Buttercup follows me. Another unstated rule between me and him. He follows me whenever I wonder the house, keeping a track on me. I give him food and make sure he's home safely every night. We look out for each other. He lands with a loud thud on the bedroom floor and I give him a small glare. He's going to end up waking up Peeta.

"Shh!" I tell him, annoyed at how careless this stupid cat is being.

He gives me a small hiss, his eyes returning my glare. I resist the urge to kick him out of the window and into the cold night.

I guess even our friendship has limits.

I tip-toe across the room and try as quietly as I can, to go down the stairs and into the kitchen. I don't want to wake Peeta up. He's having a peaceful night for once and he deserves a good night's sleep. Buttercup follows me down and positions himself on the kitchen counter, his tail swinging from left to right and his eyes following me around the room.

I sip the glass of water, savouring each refreshing droplet. My throat feels instantly soothed and hydrated. I stand there in the kitchen, looking out of the window and into the night allowing my mind to drift and think about other things. I think about my Mum and how hard she's working at the hospital in District 4. As much as I would want her here with me, I'm proud of her and of what she's doing. I think of Haymitch and of how totally drunk he must be. A small smile manages to creep up on my face. I even think of my prep team back in the Capitol and wonder what they must be up to tonight. Surely they would have something to do in the busy Capitol.

I don't realise how long I've been up until I hear footsteps entering the room.

Peeta rubs one of his eyes with his hand, while the other focuses on me.

"I'm sorry. Did _we_ wake you up?" I ask giving Buttercup an irritated look. He hisses back at me. I want to kick Buttercup, I bet it's his fault Peeta woke up.

Peeta shakes his head. "No," he answers, half laughing and rubbing Buttercup's ears. The ugly cat purrs back to him. He's so easily sold. All Peeta had to do one day was give him a piece of bacon and Buttercup adores him. With me, well, the hissing proves how little we've improved. Better than before, but not much.

"I woke myself up and didn't find you in the bed. I came downstairs looking for you," Peeta explains.

"I just needed some water," I say. "Want some?"

He nods and walks over to me as I pour him a glass of water too. Unlike me, he drinks it all in one go. He must have been as thirsty as I was. A big yawn escapes my lips, tiredness slowly creeping up on me. No wonder, I haven't had a wink of sleep tonight.

"Katniss, have you slept at all?" Peeta asks me.

I want to lie and tell him that I have and that I only woke up because my throat feels dry. I don't want to tell him that I actually never fell asleep because I was too afraid that my screams would somehow hurt him. But Peeta and I promised never to lie to each other. So I have to tell the truth.

"No," I reply looking down at my feet.

I hear him sigh. "I thought you said that spending the night here with you would help youkeep the nightmares away and _sleep_ properly like it used to do."

"It _did_," I say but then correct myself. "It still does."

"But?" he edges me on.

My fingers start playing with the bottom of my braid. I don't want to lie to Peeta. "I just... It's been so long since me and you spent the night together and so much has happened since that I wasn't sure anymore if the nightmares would still stay away. I didn't want you to hear me scream... so I forced myself to stay awake."

"They did stay away," says Peeta. "At least, mine did."

I manage to half smile at him. "I know."

He reaches out and takes my hand in his.

I allow it. I consent to a few things actually. I allow him to hold my hand, but only in private. I allow him to hug me when I'm upset and desperately needing human comfort. I allow him to spend the night at my house because it will help both of us deal with the nightmares. I know it doesn't even come close to what Peeta would like me to allow, but he doesn't push it. He says it has something to do with the hijack and the tracker jacker venom. He told me he isn't sure of his feelings for me, he knows that he used to feel something strong for me, but now it's still unclear, most of it anyway.

But I know him, I know that while he might not have fully understood the depth of his feelings for me, I can see it in the way he looks at me, the way he involuntarily searches for physical contact with me whenever he can and the way he is always, _always_ there for me, no matter what.

It's my feelings for him that are still a royal mess; a mess that doesn't seem to be ready to be untangled any time soon, not whilst my heart is still so fragile and broken by all the other tragedies.

"You're still trying to protect me," whispers Peeta, half smiling to himself. "Even if we're safer now, than we've ever been in our lives."

"I told you, it's just what we do," I say.

He looks down at our interlocked fingers, his thumb rubbing the back of hand gently. "I had a dream actually," he says.

"Really?" I ask. I've forgotten what dreams are like. I only have nightmares now.

"Well... I don't know if it was more of a dream or a memory." I freeze for a split second but he just chuckles at me. "Don't worry. It wasn't any type of 'Katniss-is-a-mutt' memory. I'm pretty sure it was a real memory. It wasn't shiny."

I relax.

"One of the days before the Quell, you and I went on the roof of the training centre in the Capitol and had a picnic. We lounged there for the whole day, you made a crown of flowers and I made knots with your hair. I told you I wanted to freeze that moment in time and live in it forever and you said ok. We stayed and saw the sunset and didn't even go down for dinner." He stops, looking at my face for a reaction. "Real or not real?"

"Real." I'm surprised to hear my quiet and somehow amazed voice reply to him. "You remembered?" I ask. That day was one of the heavenly days that Peeta and I spent together; the days where with all the danger and threat looming on us we still managed to escape reality for a few hours and spend time together. Not as boyfriend and girlfriend. Just as Peeta and Katniss.

He nods. "I was scared for a moment it was just a dream... a really nice dream."

It's been six months since I've been back in District 12, four since Peeta returned. This is the first time he's recalled a real memory between us. Most of the time, he asks me about memories he finds are hazy and unclear. They turn out to be part of the hijacking and Snow's tracker jacker venom. He's never asked to certify a real memory until now. I thought that it was because he was so sure that they were real he didn't want to bother me with asking about them. Now, I'm not so sure about that. I'm wondering if he only kept them to himself because he didn't want to remind me of our memories and see the guilt appear on my face when I realise just how much I played with his feelings for me during the Games. That sounds like a Peeta thing to do, trying for the millionth time to protect me.

I owe Peeta so much. I should be willing to sit down with him and go through every memory he has until everything is completely clear. So why am I not doing this for him? Is it still so hard for me to relive those memories that I can't bring myself to help him? I know he wants to hear more. I can tell by the way he lingered on his words, feeling relieved that he finally managed to recuperate a real memory. _Come on Katniss_, I think to myself, _toughen up and help him_.

"Tell me another memory," I say to him, trying to hide the struggle it takes to get those words out. "I'll tell you if it's real or not."

He seems shocked. "Are you sure?"

Gulping, I nod.

We sit on the sofa in the living room, facing each other. Peeta racks through his brain for memories. He starts off with obvious hijacked memories, avoiding the real ones. I know he's already cleared these and stored them as hijack memories and not reality. After about the fourth hijack memory, I can't take it anymore.

"No Peeta I don't want you to ask me about any memories about me killing you." I know he can hear the edge in my impatient voice. "I want you to ask for the memories you think could be real."

He looks at me carefully for a few moments and then starts. "The first Games. When I was with the Careers you dropped a nest of tracker jacker wasps on us. I ran but got stung. When I knew everyone had fled I came back and found you there so I pushed you and told you to run. Cato came and cut my leg. I wasn't actually working with the Careers, I was just trying to protect you." He looks down at his prostate leg. "That's how I got the fake leg, because I had to fight Cato to keep you alive. Real or not real?"

"That's a difficult one," I reply trying to give myself some strength to relive the memories of the arena. "I got stung too, three times: on my knee, my cheek and my neck so when I saw you come back everything was shiny and unclear. I can't really remember much and what I do remember seems to be a result of the venom. I was there because I wanted to get the bow from Glimmer, the girl that the wasps killed when I dropped the nest. You came back and told me to run but my memory of it isn't clear. When the Games were over and we were watching the recap, yes, you were with the Careers because you wanted to protect me. And yes, Cato cut you when you tried to save me and that's how you got the prostate leg." I stop and try to force a smile on my face. "So yes, real."

"I got blood poisoning on my leg?" he asks.

"Real."

"When you found me you got the pus out of my leg using some sort of leaves that you chewed?"

I nod. "Real."

"You tried to cut my leg off?"

I blink a few times and then scrunch up my nose. "Ew. Definitely not real, Peeta."

He smirks. "Thought so. You're squeamish when it comes to other people's injuries?"

"Real. But only the really bad injuries, I can deal with minor things."

"You cured the blood poisoning by risking your life and going to the Cornucopia to get the medicine for me. I didn't want you to go but Haymitch sent you sleep syrup to give to me so I would knock out for a whole day and you could get the medicine without me following you." Something in his voice tells me that he thinks this is real. "Now, I know that's true, but there's a funny memory about you shoving the berries with the sleep syrup down my throat trying to choke me... which doesn't make sense because you gave me the sleep syrup to try and _save_ me."

"Well, there was definitely no choking, but I was feeding you the berries and when you realised what I actually gave you I had to kind of shove them down your throat so you wouldn't spit them out," I explain. "So kind of real, but not entirely."

"You shouldn't have risked your life for me," he states.

I ruffle up his hair, feeling like we've travelled back in time. "We've already had this argument," I tell him. "I know that you didn't agree with me going to the Cornucopia, especially because the fact that we both survived shows I made the right choice. Which you still think was the wrong thing to do. I don't agree... but hey, we'll just agree to disagree on that, ok?" He rolls his eyes at me. "Besides, you were always the good one. You were the one to be saved. If one of us had had to die in the arena in the first Games it should have been me."

He's holding my hand again, tightly. "No, don't say that. I wouldn't have been able to face District 12 knowing you were dead." He stops, knowing not to cross that line where he expresses his feelings for me. Confused or not, some of his feelings are still there. "Back in the arena, I would have done anything to save you."

"You tried to kill yourself at the end." He seems confused. Probably another hijacked memory. "When they announced that there was only going to be one winner you took your bandages off your cut so you could bleed to death while I was helplessly trying to stop the blood from going everywhere. Not to mention I was planning the rest of my life in the arena if you died. Then the idea of the berries came to my mind, we both took them and well... you know the rest."

"Oh, wait... so you took the berries too?" he asks. I nod. "I thought so. There was something very _shiny_ about you shoving the berries in my mouth and then pretending to take them too before we got rescued by the hovercraft."

Another yawn escapes my mouth before I can reply to him.

"Come on, time for bed," he says, taking my hands and pulling me up.

"Are you sure you don't want to go through any more memories?" I ask, regretting the words as soon as they come out.

I want to sleep, and I can't deny the fact that reliving all these memories with Peeta is painful for me. But I want to help him too. It's the least I can do after everything he's done for me. I know now that I'll never stop owing the boy with the bread. He's saved my life in countless ways and I'll never be able to show him my full gratitude for everything he's done for me.

He shakes his head. "No, enough for today."

"Ok," I manage to say in between yawns.

I try and hide the fact I'm relieved that the rest of this conversation has been postponed for now.

My eyelids are already starting to droop as we make our way up the stairs. Buttercup is already curled up the bottom of the bed, watching us carefully as we enter the room. I slump down on the bed, pulling the covers over me. I'm already nearly half asleep when Peeta puts his arm around me and whispers "Night Katniss" to me. I try and mumble goodnight back but the words get eaten up in my mouth.

And, for the first time in God knows how long I finally sleep. No nightmares, no screaming. Nothing.

Just sleep.

**This is my first Hunger Games fic. I hope you like it!**

**Elisa x  
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